


The Steadfast Soul

by Yidkirkin



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gotei 13 | 13 Court Guard Squads - Freeform, Modified Souls/Kaizo Konpaku, Pre-Canon, Shinigami, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-01-26 06:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yidkirkin/pseuds/Yidkirkin
Summary: Kaizo Konpaku; the Modified Souls were ordered to be destroyed when debate on the ethics of their existence reached a fever-pitch, and we know that at least one managed to escape it. But what would have happened if the man who created Project Spearhead had done things differently, and had made sure that some of them got away? Set three years pre-series.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**The Steadfast Soul**

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of this.

Vvv

His first hours alive were filled with a ticking sense of dread, the verdict already spread from the older, more experienced Mod Konpaku to those only just created, only just _born. _He knew, abstractly in the way they all did, what it meant in the grand scheme of things, even if the elders of their race were scant years old at the most. One of the youngest, with no given name except the listing UND-108 for his status as an Underpod and order of creation, was close to the door of the cabinet where they were kept in storage, and perceived firstly the rage that affected the overseers of the project at the order to destroy their work.

UND-108 was also the first to see what became of the MIN batches, the ones deemed most dangerous or most aware of the world around them –108 would never be sure of the real reason they were destroyed first. But they had powers of the mind, telepathy or telekinesis, and by the end of the first day after the sentencing came down, only a scant few of them were left.

UNDs were likely the least threatening to the Soul Reapers, 108 thought, which meant they would probably be one of the last batches to die, depending on whether the UPEs came before or after them. 108 was also the one to perceive the KINs, the ones with elemental abilities, get summarily wiped out next, again with less than a dozen left in the aftermath. 108 had never entertained the possibility of knowing something the others did not, but he had to wonder why the Soul Reapers were exterminating only the first hundred Mods and not the entire batch in one go. 108 could distinctly feel their spared siblings nearby, although those left after the Soul Reapers came were weak and far away –as if they had been moved to a different area.

Then the SHIs and the PROs were gone; they were supposed to be the protectors and the ones most alike to the Soul Reapers, the last line of attack if all before them weren’t up to the job. Just like that, hundreds of 108’s kin were snuffed out before they could ever fulfill their purpose, leaving only the smallest, the newest ones behind just like the other batches, all because –why?

Why had the Soul Reapers created them only to shut the Mod Konpaku out? Was it really what 104 posited, that some of the Reapers thought it reprehensible that the Mods existed at all? Or was MED-16 the one to listen to, when she conveyed the notion that the Reapers were frightened of the power they might be able to wield outside of their shells? 108 had only existed a few days, maybe not even that long, but it seemed terribly unfair. It made him wonder what Soul Reapers were like, that they were capable of such cruelty.

108 had only just seen the batch above him, the SENs, get taken away, when a shuddering all around the UNDs shot terror through every last one of his siblings, 108 along with them. Their drawer was opening; this hadn’t happened with the others. There had been hours between each culling, whether ensuring the overseers were thorough in their destruction or simply because destroying a Mod Konpaku required more effort than might be expected, 108 didn’t know. But then a hand loomed, and with a jolt 108 realized that it had picked him up, only him out of all of his siblings, and now 108 knew real terror all too well.

The Soul Reaper –was it a Soul Reaper? Were the overseers the same as the rest of their race or did they have different batches too? –took 108 out of the Mod Konpaku storage and moved through the rest of the facility, so fast that 108 could only get a cursory sense of what was around them and how far they were going away from the storage. There were areas of brighter light and then dimly lit, quiet places, and the Reaper carrying them stopped occasionally to speak with what 108 could only guess were other Reapers. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the Reaper entered a silent room and closed a door sharply, and stilled.

108 took this opportunity to spark and try to get the Reaper to stop squeezing so hard.

The Reaper jolted, but didn’t drop him –instead they brought 108 up and closer to their face, so close that 108 could _almost _get a picture of what they actually looked like. A thin, pale face, with long green hair and black on their shoulders, probably their uniform, and probably male. The Soul Reaper scrutinized 108 for so long that he decided it couldn’t make things worse, and so 108 sparked again.

“Well, aren’t you lively,” the Reaper muttered.

108 made a muted vibration run through his shell, which prompted a startled, but pleased noise from the Reaper.

“Okay, so we’ve established you can understand me.” The Reaper lowered himself down to sit at a low table, and placed 108 upon the table top. “Can you make any outward indicator of comprehension that doesn’t require contact? Maybe a light or movement, even a noise?”

108 wasn’t entirely sure about engaging with who he was beginning to suspect was one of their creators, but anything that delayed the inevitable and could maybe get him back to his siblings was something he was willing to try. 108 concentrated and tried to remember what KIN-62 had gone on about before they were –well, 108 tried to emulate them.

The Soul Reaper laughed when 108 managed a brief orange glow.

“This is incredible! I wish I could-” He abruptly cut himself off, and the impression 108 felt of the arm raised up to drag through the Reaper’s hair. “That’s just it, isn’t it? The Central 46 ordered you all destroyed.” 108 didn’t know what the Central 46 was beyond a vague ‘important’ notion, but he managed to make a bit of light and vibrated to try and convey his displeasure at the ruling. “I... have no idea what that means. Could you blink once for no and twice for yes, and thrice to say you don’t understand?”

108 blinked twice, and the Reaper laughed again.

“Good, that’s... thank you.” The Reaper sounded like what the MINs left over from the culling _felt_ like. “My name is Yushima Ōko, I’m the one who developed you Modified Souls. I have tried to stop the Central 46’s ruling from passing, but I have been shut out of their discussions. Do you follow me so far?” 108 blinked twice again, and Ōko made a motion that might have been a nod. “This is a _travesty_. You Modified Souls are my greatest creation –you are far too valuable to science to just be destroyed without so much as a by-your-leave. So, you, UND-108, are going to help me make sure at least _some_ of you Mod Konpaku survive this campaign.”

108 was... 108 didn’t know how to feel about this. On the one side, Ōko was as callous about the lives of 108’s siblings as they had come to expect from the Soul Reapers, and it irked 108 to hear Ōko talking as if they only held any value because of what they could give to _science._ On the other side, this was their _chance. _108 possessed the base knowledge that all Mod Konpaku were created with in order to function on their own, and he knew that it was better to take _any_ opportunity he could. It was supposed to give them an edge in fighting Hollows, but as it was, 108 didn’t care one _ounce _about fighting degraded souls.

In the end, 108 only cared about his siblings right now, and if this Soul Reaper was going to try and save them all, regardless of his reasons behind it, then 108 had his answer.

“I’ve acquired the body of a recently deceased Human.” Ōko went on blithely, and 108 got the distinct impression that the Reaper thought such a statement was perfectly normal. “It was somewhat damaged, but I’ve repaired it as best I can under the circumstances, and it’s less of a risk than trying to make you a Gigai. So, this is what’s going to happen.”

Ōko suddenly sounded serious, so 108 quickly gave a sharp vibration to indicate he was listening.

“I’ve managed to smuggle out the numbers 101 to 108 from each batch of Modified Souls. Since they were created the last, they are the most stable and I was able to erase the records of their creation. _You _are the Underpod with the most advanced leg capacity, so _you _shall be the one to bring your fellow Mod Konpaku to the Living World.”

108 blinked three times in rapid succession, vibrated slightly, and then blinked three more times, which was the only way he could think of to adequately convey his extreme confusion. The _Living World??? _Was Ōko out of his senses? Even in a body, the Hollows there would eat 108 alive once they realized how many souls –modified or not –that 108 was ferrying. It would be only slightly safer than staying in the facility to await destruction.

Ōko made an impatient noise. “_This_ is the plan, and it is the best I have, loathe as it is for me to admit so.” The Reaper picked 108 up and scowled at him. “Would you rather I just hand you over to my colleagues?” 108 blinked a bright ‘NO’, and Ōko nodded. “Good. I’ll be sending you through the Senkaimon to a town called Karakura –there are rumours of a man there who could give you and the other Mods shelter until I can collect you.”

108 made an affirmative double blink, but privately thought to himself that, regardless of what the Soul Reaper thought, 108 wasn’t just going to blindly follow his orders and let the rest of his and his siblings’ lives be endless experiments or –even worse –eventual reinstatement in the Soul Reaper ranks, which is what Ōko was obviously aiming for. UND-108 was created for fending off Hollows, was sentenced to death for being born, and was now getting a chance to save the siblings he still had –like Hell he was going to roll over and die without a fight.

Vvv

The Soul Reaper’s plan fell apart, as 108 thought it would, but they had been so _close._

Ōko had hid the Human body in the Rukongai, in a building that apparently wasn’t used for much of anything anymore, except for storing the occasional bulk order of cloth or other non-essentials when the Seireitei’s artisans produced too much to run through immediately. The body was in a cramped, bare room in the back of the place, and while 108 couldn’t exactly _see _it, he managed to perceive that it was a male body with black hair and a scar down its forehead and shoulder, wearing a plain yukata for whatever passed for Soul Reaper modesty. Beside the body was the box that carried 108’s remaining siblings –Ōko showed 108 how it contained a compartment for each batch, labelled meticulously, and that the entire contraption was warded against the senses of spiritual beings.

Ōko placed the container in a bag that could be slung over the shoulders of a Human, along with a Soul Pager and medicine he said would ‘stabilize the body over time’, which 108 decided to be wary of immediately. Maybe the person Ōko mentioned who lived in Karakura could examine it for him, because there was no way he thought Ōko had his best interest at the core of him when he probably knew just as well as 108 did that it would be incredibly easy for the Mod Konpaku to slip away.

108 also vowed to ditch the Soul Pager at the nearest opportunity.

Ōko spent a while erecting a barrier of some sort, to give them a bit of time if they were discovered. 108 was placed on the body’s chest to await Ōko’s next move, and used the free minutes to try and glean a feel for the body that was to be his, at least for the time being. He didn’t have any feelings one way or the other about possessing the body –it was what they were made for, after all –but he did have to wonder if the person the body had once been was in Soul Society right now. Whether he’d had any family, if he’d had a job or hobbies. 108 knew, as they all did, the basics about what constituted a Human, but it was one thing to theoretically understand and a whole other shell to be confronted with the reality that he was about to have to pass as one.

“There, it’s ready.” Ōko stated, and picked 108 up without a word -108 didn’t like not having any autonomy, which would certainly be a plus about having a body.

Then suddenly 108 was sitting up and gasping for breath he didn’t really know how he was getting in the land of the dead, and Ōko was in sharp relief beside him, a manic grin on his face. 108 hacked up the thick air, and then calmed eventually, jittery and off-kilter in the worst of ways at abruptly having such a large spacial awareness and actual _extremities._

“No time to lag around, up.” Ōko demanded, and hauled the body -_108’s body _–up by the arm. 108 staggered under the bag that Ōko secured over his arms and across his back, and then realized that he was now responsible for his entire family. Every Mod Konpaku left alive was in his hands, was counting on _him_, and 108 swallowed his fright at the new seriousness of an already fraught situation.

“You’ve got the knowledge in your head about the rough location, so _use it._” Ōko commanded, and pushed 108 none too gently aside so he could face the bare wall, where he was going to open the illegal Senkaimon. “Those legs will outrun a Soul Reaper without fail, but the body itself is weak. You can only go so far before you lose speed. I will page you once things have blown over here.”

“I... un-d... erst-and...” 108 forced out, pretty sure the body was already failing on him.

“Good.” Ōko clapped 108 on the shoulder and began the opening of the gate, when the door behind them on the other side of the barrier burst open.

“Yushima Ōko!” The Soul Reaper shouted, sword already drawn and levelled to attack. “Cease and desist immediately! You are under arrest on order of Central 46!”

Ōko gained another manic expression, and turned to regard the other Soul Reaper with a wide grin on his face. “Tell Central to go to Hell!”

And then 108 was being dragged along through the gate by Ōko, the Reaper pulling him through a couple Shunpos before they popped out the other side and into the street of a suburban neighbourhood in the Living World.

“Go!” Ōko barked, as he drew his sword and faced the open gate –where through the tunnel 108 could see the pursuing Soul Reapers just breaking through the barrier Ōko had erected not ten minutes ago. “I’ll collect you later!”

108’s ire rose at being talked at like a _thing_, but he didn’t let that distract him from the very real need to _do as Ōko said. _Without a second thought he turned around and used the full extent of his Underpod abilities to _jump_, and with a brand new exhilaration he soared up and over the nearest house, and landed on the street opposite.

Shouts came from Ōko’s direction and 108 didn’t care; they had popped out not too far away from the suspected location of the rumoured shelter that Ōko talked about, and he was sure that he could make it there with energy to spare. Of course as 108 ran with all of his might, trying not to jostle his siblings too much, he could hear the sounds of pursuing feet; one of the Soul Reapers must have been capable of a decent Shunpo, and was now gaining on him.

Houses and streetlights passed 108 in a blur as he ran for his life, for all of their lives, and still every so often the sound of a Reaper shouting him down would reach his ears. Finally he knew something had to give, so he put on a big burst of speed and flung himself into a crevice between a river retaining wall and underneath an overpass.

108 clasped his hands over his mouth to try and muffle the sound of his breathing, terrified in this body and unable to _think _over the pounding of its inexplicably beating heart. The Soul Reaper’s running footsteps passed over him and 108 kept as still as possible, his eyes blown wide just in case he needed to head the Reaper off, but then the footsteps grew fainter. After a few minutes, 108 lowered his hands and listened –there was nothing. He breathed out in a low rush, nerves making him jumpy, and stepped out of the crevice to continue on his way.

Only to find the Soul Reaper waiting for him with her sword drawn.

108 shrieked and flew backwards, immediately pursued by the Reaper. He ended up pinned against the retaining wall, a sword to his throat, and couldn’t help but whimper in terror at the cold look directed their way.

“You are a Modified Soul, of Project Spearhead, are you not?” The Reaper demanded, and 108 nodded frantically, glad when he managed to glean that the sword was far enough away that he wasn’t in immediate danger of a beheading. “Central 46 ordered you captured and returned to the Soul Society. Come quietly.”

“I-I’ll... die!” 108 forced out, and the exclamation made the Reaper hesitate briefly. “I w-wa... nna live! D-Don’t!”

She looked at 108 with pity. “I am sorry, but it is out of my hands.” She adjusted her sword so the tip was near to 108’s new heart, and when she spoke again it was with an edge of steel. “Now, please surrender.”

One second was all it took -108 had made sure to save enough energy to get away and to the right location; the Reaper’s stance made it far too easy to swing his knee up into her sword arm, and then his opposite leg into the Reaper’s head. She fell like she was dead, but 108 knew better than to think it would be that easy, and instantly ran once more, this time not diverting any attention as to whether he was being followed.

The apparent shelter was a closed convenience store called Urahara Shoten, and the only indication it was the right place were the three spiritual signatures 108 could sense inside. Breathing hard now as his energy finally began to flag, 108 ran up the steps and banged loudly on the door, yelling in the body’s broken voice as loud as he could push it.

“Ple-ase! Help! I –don’t wa-nt to –di-e!” The voice cracked on every other syllable, but 108 couldn’t stop. “Nee-d she-lter! Pl-ease! He-elp!”

Despite the late hour, his pleas worked; within another minute, the door was thrown open by a towering man with a severe face, two others hovering in the shadows just behind him. He appeared astonished to see 108 there in front of him, and whether or not these people knew what 108 was, he had to take the chance.

“Ple-ase... Rea-pers... after me.” 108 gasped, making the tall man’s expression turn severe. “Do-n’t wan-a die... need –save fa-a-mily... _please_!”

“Christ, Tessai, let the poor kid in.” One of the other signatures said, pushing past the towering man to drag 108 in by the collar of the yukata. 108 stumbled, bare feet on the hardwood jolting in pain now that he wasn’t flushed with adrenaline, and when the store doors were shut and locked behind them he couldn’t even see anything for how dark it was.

“Alright, alright, through here,” the third person said with an air of nonchalance, and the hand on 108’s shoulder guided him along through the store and presumably into the back. A minute later, a hatch in the floor opened up, letting light flood the room as if it was lit by the sun. “Down you go, especially if it’s Onmitsukido, everyone.”

108’s body was grabbed by the waist, and he yelped in surprise as the towering man slung them over the shoulder and jumped down the hatch into an enormous cavern with the daytime sky painted on the high ceilings. The one who had first grabbed 108 followed them, and his grin at 108’s shocked expression was a little annoying.

The last person arrived after –presumably –securing the hatch. Once 108 had caught his breath, he tensed as he realized that despite the fact that these people had hidden him from the Soul Reapers, 108 didn’t actually _know them_, and the only person who’s word he was trusting in right now was _Ōko’s_. 108 clutched the straps of the pack tightly and leaned away from the scrutiny of the three men; the largest of whom –Tessai? –was staring at 108’s body’s feet.

“Let’s get those looked at, firstly,” The man in the striped hat said, using the fan he procured from a pocket to point at the feet. “Tessai, the spring?”

“Of course,” Tessai stepped forward, and paused when 108 flinched back. “I am only going to carry you to the healing spring, if you’ll allow? You are bleeding.”

“O-Oh,” 108 felt dizzy with whiplash. There was indeed a bit of a pool of red collecting in the rock under him, and when he shifted a lance of pain raced up the leg. “Ok-ay.”

Tessai was exceedingly gentle for all he’d thrown 108 around like a bag of grain earlier, and within a minute 108 found himself sitting at the edge of a small pool, soaking his feet and already feeling relief from the water. The other two men sat around the edges as well a few feet away, and did their best to look patient.

“So, stranger, care to introduce yourself?” The man on the left, with straight, straw blonde hair chirped. “I’m Shinji. That over there’s Kisuke and Tessai.”

“Ah, he-l-o,” 108 coughed, his throat still raw from the shouting. “I-I’m 1-08.”

“Hyakuhachi?” The hat –Kisuke –asked, his fan hiding his expression, especially when 108 shook his head.

“N-o, the... num-b-ers...” 108 was shaking, but these people were going to find out eventually anyway. “UND-108. Of... Pro-oject Sp...earh-ead.”

Shinji gave no outward reaction, but Kisuke and Tessai both startled, eyes wide. “Seireitei just issued a gag order on that.” Kisuke’s voice did not betray his feelings on the matter.

“I... don’t w-anna die.” 108 insisted, desperation clawing its way up this body’s throat. “Esc-aped. ‘Cau-Cause of O-Ōko... had to-to sa-ve my fa-amily. They were –gonna kill all-_all _of us.” 108 wasn’t used to a body, and the burning sensation behind its eyes wasn’t making this any easier. “I be-eg you, pl-ease let-let us _live_. I’ll do –_anything_.”

While Shinji and Tessai were, arguably, more approachable, 108 turned his eyes to Kisuke. He was probably the leader here, and the instincts of a disposable soldier told 108 to defer to him, even when 108 just wanted to run and hide and never have to be this scared ever again. They stared at each other for a minute, and when Kisuke’s gaze flicked down to 108’s lap he realized with a start that he was clutching the bag to his chest so hard that his nails were biting into his palms.

“You said, ‘us’.” If Kisuke knew the fright that stabbed 108’s heart at the implied question, he didn’t let on about it. “How many of you are in there, UND-108?”

“No, do-n’t take the-m! The-y’re all I-I got le-eft,” 108 wanted to run, wanted to flee, to get away and _protect_, but Tessai was still next to him and his instincts were screaming alarm bells about this –he clutched the bag all the tighter, and Kisuke sighed.

“Kid, I need to know so I can accommodate you,” he said, and 108’s mind ground to a halt. “I, well, let’s just say I have _experience _with fugitives from Soul Society.” Shinji coughed slightly, and Kisuke shot him an amused look. “You’ll probably be the only one with a body for a while, but we’ll see what I can do. But you gotta help _me _out here, too.”

108 liked to think he could feel his siblings pulse in sympathy in his arms even through the warded container, and in that moment it gave him enough courage to breathe. “Se-eventy-one. U-Used to be ov-er 900 of –of us.”

Finally that got a real reaction from at least one of the three –Shinji stood up abruptly with a curse and stalked off, a Zanpakuto materializing in his hand that he used to demolish a nearby mound of stone. Tessai looked as stone-faced as 108 guessed he usually did, but Kisuke seemed troubled as well.

“Is h-e o-k-ay...?” 108 asked nervously.

Kisuke sighed and waved the question off. “He’d sensitive to Soul Society’s misdeeds.” He said cryptically. “How did you get out?”

“O-Ōko saved... young-est ei-ght of... each batch.” 108 mumbled, the body starting to feel tired. “I... th-ink he go-ot... cap-tured, th-though.”

“Yushima Ōko? He always _was _a little odd.” Kisuke mused. 108 felt his eyelids drooping a bit and tried to sit up straight to keep himself awake; Kisuke looked strangely sympathetic. “Alright, let’s put off this discussion for tomorrow. You’re dead on your feet. Tessai, wanna go grab the bed rolls?”

The large man made an affirmative noise and rose, leaving 108 dangerously wobbly –but Kisuke took his place and helped him to stand up. Miraculously, the raw undersides of 108’s new feet had healed over.

“One thing, kid,” Kisuke said, nonchalant as he steadied 108’s steps. “If you’re gonna be around the Living World, you can’t be going by UND-108. You’re gonna need a name that can pass for Human.”

Oh, 108 hadn’t thought of that. “I-I don’t... I don’_know _any na-mes.” The body heated up around its cheeks as he admitted this, and 108 guessed this was ‘embarrassment’. “Y-You... pick?”

Kisuke barked out a laugh at that, which devolved into snickers that he hid with his fan. His shaded eyes looked at 108 with a great deal of amusement. “I dunno if you wanna give me _that_ kinda power, kid.” But he did hum in thought as they approached the flat area where Tessai was setting up a few bed rolls. “Definitely _not _Hyakuhachi, that’s too much of a mouthful. You’re pretty much the first Kaizo Konpaku to gain a body out of your family, though, so why not something to emulate what you are? Ah, I got it!”

“Got what?” Shinji appeared looking a little more composed than before, if still somewhat tight around the eyes, and Kisuke swept a hand toward 108 dramatically.

“Shinji, Tessai, I present to you,” He huffed a laugh. “Fudotō Kon!”


	2. Chapter 2

The first night was the worst –being in a body without anything to distract him from its finer workings was disconcerting, and he lay awake for nearly an hour at first simply trying to find a position that wouldn’t make the blood in his ears rush. Once that was taken care of, he had to fiddle with his extremities and try not to cut off the circulation or let his arms cramp up if he put them in the wrong spot for too long, and by the time he was halfway comfortable 108 –er, _Kon_ had to wonder why Humans bothered with the chore at all if it involved so much fussing.

It was also difficult to ignore the body’s beating heart and the wheeze of each breath that left his throat, not to mention that in the thin yukata he was still wearing from the Soul Society Kon quickly learnt that its particular set of genitalia was less than ideal left loose. The bedroll was better than the packed earth underneath, but since the blanket was threadbare it took him awhile to notice that the cold wasn’t helping matters –it really wasn’t until Kisuke threw another layer over him and muttered that he was shivering that Kon realized it at all. Kon finally fell asleep much later than Tessai had set up the cot in the first place, and awoke the next day groggy, disoriented and alone in the bunker.

“Kisuke-san? Tessai-san?” Kon called out, but there was no response. He re-tied his yukata and then affixed the pack with his family inside on his back once more, already antsy at having left them alone for so long. He was going to have to unseal them at some point soon to tell them what was going on, especially if Kisuke was going to be helping them stay hidden from the Soul Society –although Kon still wasn’t sure if he believed all that.

The ladder to get up into the house was ridiculously long even if Kon had never seen a real one for reference, and he judged the distance for a few minutes before he decided that, yes, he could probably make it. He felt the muscles in these new legs out, just to make sure he hadn’t damaged them in his mad dash last night, and then Kon _pushed._

Kon fell _just_ short of the hatch opening, but he grabbed the top rung of the ladder and laughed out loud, his muscles jittery with the feeling of putting them to use when there wasn’t a threat around to have to worry about. When he pulled himself up and into the house he found Tessai watching him from the doorway, and flailed a little in his surprise –luckily the man stepped forward and hoisted him away from the opening before he could hurt himself.

“Kon-kun,” Tessai greeted, and if Kon hadn’t realized before then he was positive by now that Tessai was an unreadable wall, giving nothing away about how he felt besides a vague ‘disappointed’. “You slept well?”

“Erm, once I fig-ured out how to li-ie down,” Kon told him honestly, and Tessai nodded seriously.

“I find myself having the same problem, occasionally,” Tessai stood Kon up and dusted him off, and then gestured at the door. “I was about to start breakfast.”

“Oh, wou-ld you like any hel-p?” Kon followed Tessai into the next room, which turned out to be where the kitchen and dining room were located. Through the open sliding door to the backyard, Kon spotted Kisuke lounging on the deck, presumably asleep if the loll of his head was any indication. “I don’t kno-w much, but I cou-ld.”

Tessai regarded him for a moment, before he gave an ambiguous huff and adjusted his glasses. “Yes, I believe you can.”

Tessai was demanding, but showed Kon how to do everything he asked of him beforehand, and even explained the tasks he didn’t let Kon help with, so he fell into a calming, deep drone in the background. Kon learnt how to wash rice, measure water and spices, whisk eggs, brew both tea (for Tessai) and coffee (for Kisuke), as well as how to do the washing up throughout the process. Everything humans did seemed to take _time_, Kon mused as Tessai instructed him on where the clean dishes should be placed in the cupboards and then on the table. Time and effort, and they had to do all of it every day without fail or they couldn’t even live properly. Kisuke came in from the deck once the scent of coffee had wafted his way, although when he took a seat he didn’t look as though he needed it and was just as chipper as he had been last night.

“Morning, our wayward soul,” He snickered and got a look from Tessai for his trouble. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Yo-u’re welcome.”

“Has your voice been breaking like that this whole time?” Kisuke asked around a mouth of rice, and when Kon confirmed he made a considering noise. “We should look at that soon, make sure Yushima didn’t mess up your vocal chords. He wasn’t exactly an expert in Gigai construction way back when.”

“Erm,” Kon hesitated, but even that was enough to make Kisuke’s oddly intense gaze fix on him and prompt him to speak. “It’s –it isn’t a Gi-gai.”

“What,” Kisuke said.

“Ōko didn’t pu-t me in a Gi-gai, Kisuk-e-san.” Kon raised his chin and grit his teeth. “He sai-d –it was a de-ad human.” The two men –and were they really men at all, when they knew so much about the Soul Society? –were silent, so Kon kept talking. “I don’t know whe-re it came from, or who it wa-s. But this is wha-t I was made to do, and I –I won’t be asha-med of it, or –or of li-ving.”

Kisuke let out a blustery sigh and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “You sure are wilful for a created soul, but I guess that’s what I should’ve expected. Finish eating and I’ll take a look.”

Kisuke kept Kon sitting at the table for ease of access to his ‘doctoring tools’ as he called them, and then proceeded to give a very clearly ad hoc examination. He knocked at Kon’s new joints with his knuckles and tested how his range of motion with them was, then timed his pulse and heartbeat for a little while before inspecting his ears. Once done with that, he shone a light in Kon’s eyes and down his throat, had him hold a tone and see when his voice broke, and finally had Kon flex his reiatsu so he could measure it.

“Everything’s a little slower than it should be, and your reiatsu is fluctuating oddly,” he commented once all was said and done. “I think it’s explained by the sudden introduction of a foreign soul to a body that had probably started rigor mortis a little.” Kon nodded in understanding, while in the background Tessai nearly dropped the teapot he was rinsing. “Other than that, based on the scar tissue and some of your limb responses up top, this person probably got hit by a car or fell from a building. I believe if your voice doesn’t stop breaking, the voice box was likely damaged during such an event. We’ll have to incorporate some physical therapy into your recovery.”

“Oka-y,” Kon accepted, shouldering the yukata again, which made him think of something. “I –I need somethi-ng to wear, besi-des this.”

“Hm... you’re pretty slight,” Kisuke eyed Kon in a way that made his ears turn pink. “I’ll ask those guys if anyone over there has some spares –Love, maybe, or Shinji since he’s such a beanpole. They might be able to help us out, too, since I _know _they didn’t just spend the last century lazing around that warehouse of theirs...”

Kon idly thought that it would be nice to see Shinji, since he still hadn’t thanked the man for pushing Tessai to let him into the shop, until what Kisuke actually said caught up to him.

“Wh –a _century_?!”

Kisuke gave an ugly laugh and ducked out of the room, which left Tessai to shuffle Kon into the bathroom and show him how to work the bath and the taps, where the towels and soap were kept, and then with his stern manner he informed Kon what and where he should and shouldn’t wash when he came in here, and then a few other avenues that we best not mention further. It was –well, it wasn’t embarrassing for Kon at the very least, he appreciated it since he wouldn’t have had a clue otherwise. It wasn’t like he was designed to _maintain _the bodies he would have been thrust into on the battlefield.

Tessai gave him an old jinbei of Kisuke’s so he could give the yukata a wash while Kon was in the bath, and then left him to it. Kon put the bag in a dry corner of the room away from the door in case he got distracted, and then poked around to be sure he knew where everything was, before he took a deep breath and looked at his new body in the mirror.

It was Japanese, with the black hair and dark eyes that he expected out of his base knowledge, and skin a little darker than was apparently typical. The hair was parted down the middle and fell to the chin, and the scars from whatever killed the original owner went up into the hairline a few centimetres, then down the forehead, over the right eye and onto the cheek, which made it cave inwards just enough that he could feel the difference on the inside of the mouth on that side. There were more scars from collarbone to chest, and even a few on the right arm, like the person had tried to shield himself from impact.

Kon traced the features of the face –_his _face, he had to remember that, now –and wondered again if the man had left anyone behind. His face was narrow, with a sad tint even when resting and creases between his eyes, like he had always been worried or stressed, and low cheekbones. One of them felt, under Kon’s fingertips, like it had been previously broken and healed a little out of place. He could live in this, Kon decided, and if he ever found out who the previous owner was, then he would offer his respects. For now, he hoped the man didn’t mind too much.

Vvv

“Listen, you’ll be fiiine,” Kisuke assured him, fiddling with the blankets covering Kon’s legs. Kon let him do what he wanted, feeling awful and sluggish from whatever concoction the man had poured into his drink that morning and then forced him to chug, all to facilitate this farce. “When you’ve been over here as long as I have, you pick up a few tricks.”

“And h-ow long ha-as _that_ bee-n?” Kon asked weakly –Kisuke turned his infuriating shadowed grin away and waved the question off.

“Ah, that _would_ be telling,” he chortled, and then the doorbell rang. “Okay, kid, showtime.”

It had been a week since Kon arrived late in the night with his siblings strapped to his body, and if there was nothing else to say about Urahara Kisuke, it was that he liked to get things done as fast as possible. The man had allowed Kon to reside in his and Tessai’s home for seemingly no reward –which Kon was still cautious about –and then proceeded to interrogate him to within an inch of his life. He had wanted to know every detail Kon could recall about, well, basically his entire existence, but with a special attention on the way Ōko had managed to smuggle the Mod Konpaku out of Soul Society.

The major snag in whatever plans he’d been cooking up in his brain had arose when Kon revealed that the body he possessed wasn’t a Gigai at all, but instead a reanimated corpse. While it wasn’t so much the concept itself –although Tessai exuded an air of disapproval and Kisuke seemed a bit put off at Kon’s nonchalant approach to the whole thing –Kon quickly understood that they had lost their best way to integrate him into living society. They didn’t have a way to track where the body had come from, so anything to do with the body’s identity before Kon acquired it was a dead end, so to speak.

Which led them to their current predicament; it involved a lot of shady paperwork and forged signatures, and probably some bribes and threats directed at pencil pushers too, Kon guessed. He didn’t exactly have a lot of experience in the Human condition, but even to Kon this whole plot seemed convoluted and cliché –who was going to believe a story about a miraculous awakening from a _coma?_

“Here we are,” Kon heard Kisuke say through the door, moments before the shop owner slid it open to reveal the modest bedroom that Kon and his family had been staying in. From behind him a nondescript middle aged man stepped around Kisuke and entered the room, inspecting the environment before his eyes fell to Kon. The Mod Soul forced himself not to fidget under the scrutiny, half of him regretting the addition of a face to his person, but really, the government man didn’t appear all too suspicious of the situation. Then another person followed him through the door, this time a woman in a suit carrying a briefcase, who strode briskly to Kon’s side and began digging through said briefcase while her companion started talking.

“Fudotō Kon-san, my name is Unako Torichi, and that is Doctor Hanazawa Kakō. We apologize for the intrusion so suddenly after you regained consciousness.” The man bowed formally, while Hanazawa laid out on a white cloth a series of medical objects from a stethoscope to a needle. “You may be aware, but we’ve come to confirm your family’s claims of identity, and work out a plan from there. Is that alright with you?”

“Ah, I su-ppose,” Kon didn’t even have to fake the cough or the weakness of his voice –the body was shaking from sitting up so long. “Cou-ld I la-lay down, du-uring? I apo-logize.”

“No apology needed,” The doctor stated brusquely, and used her hand to help Kon lay back down, which was something of a relief; he really had to wonder what Kisuke had given him. “I’ll start with examining your scars, if that’s fine?”

“Y-es,” Kon allowed, and tried not to wince as she began prodding at them, even the ones up past his hairline. They were numb of feeling from whatever Ōko had done to close them, but the edges still felt odd when under her fingertips.

“Thank you, Fudotō-san,” Unako said, and took a seat seiza-style on the other side of Kon’s body from the doctor. “I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind?”

These people seemed awfully intent on gaining his consent for every little thing they were going to do, and it actually made Kon relax somewhat. Maybe it was just because of how he’d been created, but the idea of bodily autonomy and control over what others did with him –it was extremely appealing. “Ple-ase, go ahead,” he said, only a little awkwardly as Hanazawa moved down to his collarbone scars. He wondered again how the body had acquired them.

“Answer to the best of your ability,” Unako demurred; Kon and Kisuke had established beforehand a backstory with just a bit of patchy amnesia thrown in to cover for any slips. “Could you tell us your date of birth and your places of residence? Or at least those you’ve had for longer than a year.”

Kon screwed up his face and stared at the ceiling. “Erm, I was b-born on Ma-rch 4th, b-but I can’t re-mem-ber the y-ear,” Kisuke had put the body at roughly twenty-five. “Ma-ybe 1980? It _sou-nds _right. And I don’t r-emember wh-ere I was born ei-ther.” Kon closed his eyes when Hanazawa drew away. “But I kn-ow I lived in-in Ya-nagi? I think, and then Toku-shu, before I m-oved to-to Tsuchi-ura.”

“Your cousin says you were born in Karakura, and your year of birth was actually 1981.” Unako sounded like he was reciting the weather forecast. “We found a copy of your birth certificate in the local records, replaced after the water damage ten years ago. And we also found a receipt in the records of a Tsuchiura landlord for a rental apartment.”

“Ye-ah, I was g-onna fi-ind work there,” Kon commented, impressed at how a couple little things Kisuke snuck in here and there were paying off. “Ugh, I was –I was down... at the market? Ne-ar the p-pier, ri-ight? Whe-en the ts-tsuna-mi hit.”

“As far as we can tell,” Unako confirmed –that meant they believed them, right? They wouldn’t be going along with this if they thought it was bullshit.

“Here, I need to take a saliva sample,” Hanazawa interjected. Kon opened his mouth and was glad when it was finished quickly. “The scars are healed enough that I can’t pinpoint the exact date, but probably between six months and two years old. You’re edging on malnourished, by the looks of things and how light you are, so you’ll have to make sure to switch to a nutrient rich diet for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh, tha-nk you,” Kon was a little distracted by her –her facial structure was appealing and he’d never seen hair so long on someone, and Unako too was distracting, although it was in a more ‘kind, dependable’ way as opposed to bold, and –wait, what was he thinking? Kon averted his eyes and felt the body blush up to its ears, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Kisuke adopt a shit-eating grin behind his fan.

“There were several records of people matching your description entering the hospital after the tsunami, but most of them we haven’t been able to follow up with because they were never identified.” Unako supplied after a minute. “Urahara-san already filled us in on how he found you. How is it you and he are related, Fudotō-san?”

“He wa-was _with_ my-my half si-ster, Ri-sa.” Apparently whoever Shinji was, he owed Kisuke enough that he agreed to convince one of his friends to go along with the entire story. Kisuke had faked the ‘Visoreds’’ death certificates a few times over the years they had been hiding in the Living Realm, and Lisa’s was recent enough that it was believable for them to have been related. “We be-came closer friends, after sh-e –she died. So –So I gu-ess we’re not _actually_ related...” Kon shivered as Hanazawa’s stethoscope chilled his skin, and coughed a little. “He –suppo-sed to vi-sit me.”

Unako nodded, while Hanazawa made some notes on a clipboard she had brought in with her. “I think it is auspicious he did not, that day.” Unako said, and smiled slightly, which –wow, who knew Humans could look like _that. _“I think the rest of our questions can either wait or be answered by your family doctor. Kurosaki Isshin, correct?” Kon offered a hesitant, ‘I guess?’, but it was Kisuke who confirmed definitively. “Thank you for your time, Fudotō-san, I wish you a swift recovery. Would you be willing to give Urahara-san permission to discuss your affairs by proxy, or would you rather wait until you’ve recovered?”

“K-Kisuke can do it,” Kon said, and shakily signed his new name in the box on the form Unako provided him.

“So now, you must _rest_,” Hanazawa stressed, a pinched look on her elegant –stop it, 108! –face. “You’re a case of flu away from a serious infection, so get your immunizations and eat and _rest. _Doctor’s orders.”

“Y-Yes, Do-ctor,” Kon felt his face go hot again and didn’t dare look over to where he was sure Kisuke was laughing his ass off.

Vvv

Once Kon got over the effects of that awful concoction of Kisuke’s a day later, he decided it was time to talk with his family about how things would be going forward. It would probably be better to confer with them before he went to Kisuke to discuss the same, if only because he valued their opinions more, but also because he wasn’t exactly sure how he _wanted _things to go yet. He had a few ideas stewing in this new brain of his, but nothing concrete yet, and that wasn’t exactly a position he wanted to be in indefinitely.

Kon had created a little set up for this event, so that all the other Mod Souls could see him and communicate easily without having to peek out of the warded box Ōko had given him. In the corner of the room was a low table with a cushion for Kon to sit on, and enough space that he could place each of the nine trays of Soul Pills out in a little grid.

“Hi-i!” Kon opened with, once everyone was out and settled –his siblings flickered and vibrated and sparked up at him. “I-I’m sorry I took so long to do thi-s!”

He waited for a response –whether it was CHA-101 to flitter a worry his way or SEN-104 to bombard him with queries or even for PRO-108 to nudge his mind space none too gently. But after a brief pause, his siblings just began to blink and buzz in earnest and a pit opened up where Kon was pretty sure this body’s stomach was supposed to be.

“Wai-t!” He said sharply with a lump in his throat –damn, Human bodies were so inconvenient. “I-I can’t understand you!” The attempts got worse, and then Kon got the awful suspicion that _they _didn’t understand _him _either. “Stop, stop, I-I don’t know what you’re sayi-ng, please...”

Kon couldn’t bear it, so he retreated to the other side of the room and let the –tears, the choking, _human sobbing_ escape him and it felt gross, it felt like all his energy was bubbling up under his skin and splitting his throat open, but he just kept going. This was even worse than his desperation from being chased by Soul Reapers or the pain from his shredded feet once the adrenaline subsided, or even the sharp sting of fear when he briefly thought Kisuke would take his family from him.

But this was because of Ōko in the end, wasn’t it? Ōko who had saved him and cursed him, who had breathed life into them all but only saw them as _valuable_, instead of as essentially his children. There was Ōko, and his left hand offered them an escape, a body, solace, and there was Ōko’s right hand which forced upon him terror, isolation, and a future as nothing but property.

Kon wiped his face on his yukata sleeves as he shuddered and spasmed in the aftermath of the sudden wave of emotion, and slowly regained his composure so he could face his family again. He and Ōko had managed to find a way to communicate when he was in pill form –surely they could do so here as well.

“Hi-i,” Kon said quietly as he took his seat again. This time, his siblings were remarkably more subdued, except for MIN-101 who flashed brightly and rapidly up at him. Kon got the distinct impression that they had been voted in as the spokes-soul. “Uh, oka-y. Can you understand me? Once for no and twi-ce for yes.” A beat passed and then MIN-101 pulsed twice; Kon breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s great, good. Can I pi-ck you up?”

MIN-101 agreed, so Kon gingerly placed them on his open palm –he nearly dropped them when a pleasant feeling of ‘soothing’ managed to prod his mind at the edges. By the way 101 was vibrating, they were trying extremely hard just to manage even that small gesture, and Kon sniffed, affected despite himself.

“If you’re trying to do that, 101, I feel it,” Kon assured them, at the same time he attempted to project it back like he used to be able to without even thinking about it. He should’ve guessed that the MINs would have a way to get around something like this, even if only slightly. “We’re somewhere safe, I promi-se. Er –Ōko, our creator, he got us out of the Seireitei before they destroyed us.” Kon swallowed thickly. “He wasn’t much better than them, though. He would have kept experi-menti-ng on us, I-I thi-nk. Or tri-ed to bring us back once he convi-nced them we were valuable.”

MIN-101 blazed brightly once, then waited a few seconds, did it again, and then a third time for good measure; NO, NO, and _NO, _it was clear to understand, especially with the vague feeling of ‘worry’ they projected along with it. Kon relaxed a little, something in his shoulders un-tensing as one of his siblings felt the same as he did about the whole debacle.

“He won’t be a problem, for awhile at least.” 101 flashed a YES instantly. “Ri-ght now we’re in a –well, I think he’s an ex-Soul Reaper, actually. We’re in his house, he’s goi-ng to help us.” 101 projected a ‘confused, implore, shock’ medley up at him, and Kon nodded in sympathy. “I-I don’t trust him, exactly, but he’s... already helped us all out. He di-dn’t have to. So we’ll see. He mi-ght be wi-lli-ng to make a few Gi-Gigai for us.”

_That _got the rest of his family to start figuratively yelling again, and Kon was content to let them converse without him for a few minutes. When MIN-101 blinked up at him, he concentrated and managed to catch their ‘hesitant, approved, anticipation’ feeling when they sent it over.

“I-I’m –that mea-ns you’re okay wi-th it?” A swift YES in reply. “Okay, alri-ght. We can work wi-th this. I was thi-nking, a MED should be the fir-st, just in case.”

Another quick chatter amongst his siblings, and then MIN-101 blinked a YES twice for clarity; from the box with the MEDs, 107 blinked a YES as well, and Kon couldn’t help but think it was a good choice. MED-107 had always been among the most mature of his batch despite being the second youngest, and he had always wanted to see the Living Realm despite the danger his deployment would mean. When Kon voiced this, 107 vibrated and blinked rapidly as if embarrassed.

By the time Kon had to leave for dinner, they had managed to establish a few more small decisions –mainly that they were alright with being placed in the container Kon had ferried them in for the day, since it might take a while for any decisions on Kon’s end to be made and they weren’t too keen on being knocked over and lost or any other similar scenario. Kon promised to talk with them all every day to break the monotony of isolation, and they also came to agree that a PRO would be the best for the next Gigai, as it would give everyone peace of mind.

Kon waited until Tessai was preoccupied in the kitchen with the dinner dishes before he approached Kisuke about the topic at hand. He had been growing steadily surer that this couldn’t be put off any longer since the third time Tessai’s brow creased in –well, it could have been anything from disapproval to empathy, he never did know with Tessai –at his mention of his family over the last week. He felt he had enough of a rapport established now to at least broach this, and the sooner they did, the sooner the nagging worry in Kon’s new chest would ease... probably.

Kisuke was exactly where he usually went in the evening –lounging in the mild evening on the back porch with a cup of what Kon guessed was sake. To his credit, rather than acting out the more childish impulses Kon had observed over the week, Kisuke acquiesced swiftly when Kon asked for his time, and gestured for him to join him on the porch.

“I want to get started on establishing my family, ri-ght now,” Kon opened without preamble. Kisuke gave a long-suffering sigh that by now Kon guessed was probably only half sincere, and murmured for Kon to explain. “They can’t stay cooped up for much longer –we’re all the youngest, we di-dn’t learn to cope with inaction li-ke our elders. Extended time all cramped together, only each other to talk to wi-ith no stimuli...”

“I can see where that leads,” Kisuke said.

“If the Japanese government belie-ves us, I’ll have a small sti-pend until I can get a –a job, and I could probably handle supporting one of my si-iblings in a Gigai. You said Shinji-san might be willing to help with li-ving space i-in the future. So I want to begin,” Kon somehow managed to catch Kisuke’s elusive gaze, and after a charged moment of eye contact the other man nodded.

“A Gigai’ll be our best first bet,” he took his fan and tapped it against the sake bottle between them on the porch. “But, Kon-kun, this brings up an issue. I have neither the resources nor the clout to fake identities for all seventy-one of your family members. I would estimate I can do ten, at the very most.”

Kon nodded, he had suspected as much. “Then the rest wi-ll just have to i-inhabit deceased Humans.”

Kisuke levelled him with a sharp look. “Kon-kun, it isn’t that I think you incapable, but the ethics involved in that route are sketchy at _best_.” He raised a hand to stop Kon from responding and continued on with a decidedly gentler tone. “There is, firstly, the matter of where to find these hypothetical bodies. If that is sorted in an acceptable manner, there is then the fact that Humans do not exist in a vacuum –they will have personal, if not familial connections.” Kon nodded, and focused on the tiny scars on the palms of the body that he had been given in what he knew was _not_ an acceptable manner, despite Ōko’s posturing. “You Mod Souls come, presumably, with an intact personality and gender identity, which may not mesh well with a body we... acquire. There is the matter of healing such injuries that would cause the person’s original death. We might have to deal with the spirit of that person, Hollow or otherwise. Your family will have to pass for Human at least, if _nothing_ else hits a snag.”

“I... can’t say I consi-dered all those points, so thank you, Ki-suke-san,” Kon paused and with a deep breath he sat up straight and tried to exude a confidence he didn’t really feel. “But even sayi-ng all thi-s... there aren’t many other options.”

“Not if you want your family to come out of this quickly, anyway.”

“I-If I can make it happen, I’ll gladly punt my ethics out a wi-indow,” Kon was glad that Kisuke could chuckle slightly at the phrasing, and the mood lightened considerably. “I think its most perti-nent we plan out the clan grounds fi-rstly, with Shinji-san’s input.”

Kisuke choked on his mouthful of sake, and after he recovered from his sputtered coughing he honestly appeared thrown off –he stared at Kon with wide eyes and his mouth hung open incredulously. But just as quickly he flicked his fan open and hid it all away except for his shadowed eyes.

“..._Clan_ grounds?”

“You’ve gi-ven me a name, Kisuke-san, which my siblings will take. Our numbers mean we’ll ri-ival even the Kuchiki, not that I want us to turn so high-brow,” Kon shrugged. “I’ve been thinki-ng about it. If we have clan status we’ll stay together for the most part, and i-if –you said there mi-ight be familial connections of the bodies to deal wi-th. Well, it would be easier to convi-nce them if we can offer them support, being a recognized clan would garner far more respect than i-isolated small families...”

“Kon-kun, barely anyone in modern day Japan is a part of a _clan_ anymore,” Kisuke interrupted.

“Well, then it doesn’t have to be an offi-icial clan like the Kuchiki. We can make a place for ourselves here and just –you know we’ll probably act li-like a clan even if we tried to stay separated,” Kon said, a little confused about the pushback in _this _aspect of his aspirations. “Ōko gave us an understanding of clan workings and politi-tics so we could navigate in a martial law scenario, si-since most of the Seireitei’s biggest clans are made up of Soul Reapers.” Kon frowned. “Honestly, now that I thi-nk about it, Soul Society having clans at all is a bit wei-rd, with such a low birth rate, high casualty rates, and, y’know, every-one being _dead. _It’s probably gonna be _e-easier _to establish the Fudotō in the Living Realm. Especially if the Visored agree...”

“Oh, what are you planning now...”

“Well, it’s just, you said Shi-inji-san and hi-s family’s pri-mary base right now is a _warehouse._” Kon said. “I’m a soul that was born to li-live in a pill in a cabi-net for the rest of e-eternity, and even _I_ thi-nk that’s uncomfortable. If they _wanted_ a place to li-ive, where powers and seeing spi-rits wasn’t strange, and they’re already helpi-ng us so much...”

Kisuke stared at him for a long minute, before he burst into laughter. “Oh my god...” He wheezed, and he knocked his hat askew while Kon looked on in confusion. “Ōko wanted a-a perfect army of soldiers for Soul Society and somehow –ha, somehow he managed to make the biggest batch of-of _do-gooders_ I’ve ever seen!”

Vvv

As planned, MED-107 was the first among the Mod Souls to inhabit a Gigai, the construction of which Kisuke had hidden until right before the big event as a ‘surprise’. While Kisuke and Tessai got to work ‘installing’ MED-107, for lack of a better term, and ensuring that the Gigai wouldn’t reject the pill, Kon waited outside the closed off room with a nervous step and a plan to visit Shinji in the near future unfolding in his head. Now that 107 was going to be in the Living Realm with him he could trust himself to venture out into the town even when he knew that there would be Hollows afoot.

Before, he wouldn’t have dared. Being an Underpod was a measure of protection, but his and the UPE batches had been the most controversial of them in terms of _usefulness_. Without a clear way to cleave a Hollow’s mask in two, they really didn’t have much combat ability, and in the end had been relegated to ‘cannon fodder’ status at best, right next to the CHA and SEN batches. Kon had the vague idea that Ōko had meant to use the Mod Konpaku not only for battle relief but also eventually for Living World surveillance and Seireitei bureaucratic support, but he hadn’t progressed far enough to ever really flesh out that aspect of his ambitions.

Kon was quickly realizing exactly how much of a bullet his family had dodged with the Central 46 ruling. He mourned for the lost generations above him, but to have this chance to make a life for all of them was infinitely better than an eternity as disposable soldiers or servants.

“Kon-kun,” Kon ceased his pacing and spun to see Kisuke beckoning him over. “Would you like to come in? He’ll wake up any moment.”

Kon _may _have used his leg strength to launch himself past the older man in his enthusiasm, which earned him a bark of startled laughter. He spared a thought to how often he seemed to break Kisuke’s usual lax, almost sombre personality, but only for a moment –he had a member of his family to welcome into the world.

MED-107 was _big._ Even lying down Kon could tell that he was very close in height and breadth to Tessai, and his hands where they rested at his sides were nearly twice the size of his own. Kisuke had given his Gigai a similar colouring to Kon’s, with the exception of seven small brown dots scattered across his face. His jaw was squared more than Kon’s and his hair was cropped close to his head for the ease of maintenance a medic would need, which complimented the muscles that would allow him to easily carry a patient away from danger. As Kon watched, 107’s eyes fluttered open –theirs were of a similar shape as well –and he let out a confused sounding groan as he adjusted to bodily corporeality.

Then Tessai was helping 107 to sit up, murmuring something about giving his new body time to adjust. “Oh,” 107 swayed a little in place, and Tessai placed a steadying hand on his forearm. 107 stared down at the point of contact in fascination. “Oh, that’s –yes. I like this.”

Kon laughed out loud –the tone of awe sounded off when mixed with the Gigai’s deep, raspy voice. His brother’s eyes shot up to lock with his and he gasped and reached for him, trying to simultaneously push himself up while Tessai kept him in place. Kon sank to his knees at the edge of the futon and met 107 halfway.

“108, _UND-108, _you got us out,” 107 gasped for breath and stuck his face into the crook where Kon’s shoulder met his neck, and when his arms engulfed him it was unlike anything he’d yet to feel in this body. “You saved us, you _did it!_”

“MED-107,” Kon pulled his breaths in carefully and registered the odd burnt scent alongside the smell of the laundered yukata Tessai had dressed the Gigai in beforehand. There was a stinging sensation behind his eyes and a lump in his throat, and when he tried to speak again it caught painfully against it. So Kon just let himself stay in the moment even as his breathing shuddered with the tears that spilled down his cheeks. “I –I’m so glad you’re he-here.” 107 tightened his hold and made little hiccoughing noises that could have been answering tears or disbelieving laughter. Kon managed to turn his head so he could find Kisuke across the room; the man was observing them with an expression on his face that Kon wasn’t experienced enough to place. “_Thank you. _Ki-suke-san, thank you.”

“...don’t thank me yet,” Kisuke said, but he turned briefly pink before he could hide it away with his fan. Kon couldn’t bring himself to care about the ominous statement –he was too glad, his heart was too full to bursting right now, and he could only hold 107 to him. He was sure it would turn out okay.

Vvv

And it would, he was sure. Eventually.

MED-107 had slept for a solid eighteen hours following his first three hours of wakefulness, which Kon had quietly fretted about before Kisuke assured him it was just the strain of it all catching up to him –Kon had crashed within an even shorter timeline, he pointed out, which did a lot to mitigate his worry. But it meant that while Kon awoke early in the day to assist Tessai with breakfast, 107 was still snoozing away, and did so until the more stoic of their two hosts went to collect him around ten in the morning.

107 looked funny sitting at the table with a sleep-addled brain, and simply sat with his eyes drifting shut as Kisuke poked and prodded at him for a quick check up –any problems with the Gigai would usually show up within the first week.

“Not a morning person I see,” the blonde murmured, tapping at 107’s ear –Kon’s brother flinched a little in surprise, but still seemed not all clued in. “Knew I should’ve given your eyes worse light sensitivity...”

“Here, try drinking this,” Tessai placed a rather large, sharp smelling mug of tea on the table in front of 107 –he made a curious sound and picked the mug up, but when he hesitantly tasted it he coughed in surprise.

“Bitter? You’ll grow to like it,” Kisuke chuffed and took his seat once more. “If you’re this much of a late riser, the caffeine in the tea will help you wake up.”

“Hm...” 107 made a _face _at the mug, but continued to sip at it throughout breakfast, and by the end did indeed appear more alert. While Tessai began on the dishes, Kisuke poured himself a mug of tea and waved his fan in 107’s direction.

“Okay, first off,” Kon looked over to him. “Like I said, I’ll pull the strings for the Gigai Mod Konpaku’s identities, but there’s some stuff I gotta run by. So, firstly, they can’t be your ‘siblings’.”

“Why _not_?” 107 asked.

“Fudotō Kon couldn’t have living immediate family, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to believably take over his medical decisions.” Kisuke had spent a long time explaining the ins and outs of the Japanese legal system, which Kon had only been able to understand when he put it into the context of the Seireitei. “_But, _no one said anything about cousins. Besides, calling all seventy-one of you Mod Konpaku _siblings _would just get confusing after awhile.” Kon nodded in acceptance, and after a moment of 107 frowning he too agreed. “That’s how I’m gonna slot you in there, we’ll run an ad in the paper in Tokyo about it, and you’ll have come to Karakura to be with your extended family. Ten people will be easy to manage with that excuse.”

“I thi-nk it’s a good story,” Kon looked over to 107. “Though it mi-ght take some getti-ng used to, right, cousin?”

Some of the tightness in 107’s face eased, and Kon would have to remember to talk with him about how he was faring at some point today. Kon suspected he himself had only adjusted so well because of the adrenaline and his single-minded determination to get his family away from Soul Society. “Maybe so, cousin.”

Kisuke opened and closed his fan in a way that meant he was getting his way and was pleased about it. “Next, MED-107 needs a name.”

“I have a request,” 107 said promptly. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

He, like Kon, had no clue about human names beyond that they didn’t include numbers or classifications, generally. But he would be willing to let Kisuke or Tessai give him one so long as it reflected that his ability was to heal and help. Kon was glad his first sib... _cousin_ to be ‘bodified’ wasn’t shy about saying exactly what he was feeling and wanted. They ran through a few that Kisuke knew off the top of his head, but they were vetoed for being too lengthy or not sounding right when paired with their surname. Finally Tessai decided to throw his lot in.

“Shien, meaning ‘support’.”

107 grunted, and went to sip at his tea –only to find it had gone empty, which Tessai gracefully remedied a moment later.

“Fudotō Shi-en,” Kon tested out, and 107 frowned again; he seemed to do so unconsciously when he was thinking, and it made him look uncannily similar to Tessai. Eventually, 107 nodded decisively.

“Shien. That’s –yes. I’m fine with it.”

Kisuke clapped his hands together. “Great! So, next...”

Tessai soon stole Shien away from them; he wanted to give Kon’s cousin some of his old clothes so he wasn’t confined to yukata like Kon was for the moment, and then go through the same hygiene and physical therapy talk he had given Kon. The rest of the conversation was mostly just summarizing what Kon already knew, until near the end when Kisuke threw a curve at him. Usually around lunch the man would retreat to his storefront to ostensibly open it, but really he just used the quiet to sit behind the register and write. Here, Kisuke prepared matcha and served the tea into a different set of cups and when he set them down in a certain way –Kon recognized it in his base knowledge as the prelude to a serious, formal conversation.

Kisuke left his fan folded on the table, and even removed his hat; without them he looked strangely wan and thin in his cheeks.

“I want you to pick one of your cousins from the SHIN batch next.”

Kon levelled Kisuke with a sharp look and set down the tea he had been drinking. Out in the back, he could see Tessai beginning to take Shien through a few easy Tai Chi exercises that would help him adjust to the Gigai over time.

“Could you explai-n why?” he asked, and without his fan it was much harder for Kisuke to hide his calculating expression.

“I figured out what my price is for doing all of this for you,” he said, and regardless that he had been preparing for the other shoe to drop Kon still felt the bottom of his stomach fall out. “I want you to defend Karakura from Hollows.”

“Why can’t you, Tessai, or the Vi-sored do so? Why doesn’t the Reaper assi-gned by Soul Society do so?” Kon’s back was ramrod straight as he tried to maintain his calm in the face of Kisuke’s sudden demand. The warmth that had filled him upon seeing Shien outside was gone now.

“...Tessai and Shinji’s lot are all fugitives from Soul Society. We do what we can, but we can’t afford to draw too much attention to ourselves.” Reluctantly, Kon tipped his head in acceptance of the explanation. It wasn’t as if he could throw stones about such a thing. “And _I _made a little arrangement with Seireitei. They know I’m around and they don’t like it, but if they don’t keep a little cordial with me then who knows _what_ I’d get up to.” The man tried to smile at his joke, but Kon wasn’t amused; Kisuke quickly sobered once more. “Look, I don’t want you to defeat any. That will still be the assigned Soul Reaper’s job. Your lives won’t be at my beck and call, and I’ll _help_, of course. But Karakura is a... unique place.”

“How so?”

“For one, it rests on a spiritual nexus. The barrier is slightly thinner here, which alone isn’t uncommon –there are half a dozen such points in Hokkaido alone. But what _is _uncommon is the long term presence of every variety of spiritual being within these borders. Soul Reapers, Humans, Visored, and Hollow, Quincy, and now... you.” The look on Kisuke’s face reminded him of Ōko a little, just then, with one key difference; whereas Ōko had also looked upon Kon with the eye of a scientist dissecting a specimen, Kisuke did so with a tint to his reiatsu that communicated ‘respect’. He reached into his haori pocket and withdrew a small box that he placed in the middle of the table, and when he took his hand away Kon felt a little _zing_ speed over his skin.

“Sorry, need to keep prying ears occupied,” Kisuke said cryptically. “Kon-san, there’s someone... _plotting_ in Soul Society. I have something he wants –I had thought to hide it in the next poor sod of a Reaper they sent to me, but as you know there’s been a bit of a change in my priorities.” Kisuke looked out the door to where Tessai was now showing Shien the daily stretches he was to do, and Kon’s trepidation was soothed slightly when Kisuke’s face softened a little. “It will be too much of a danger if I allow it to remain where it is much longer. I can’t even destroy it, otherwise this would be a moot point. But if you took _parts _of it amongst your family, if you hid it among your chaotic soul signatures...”

“This someone would target _us._” Kon surmised, but was surprised when Kisuke shook his head.

“No. I’ve switched it through several decoys for years, and I’m very confident that it would be nigh undetectable once split and embedded in several Gigai. What this _would _do is give me the time I need to make a plan to _kill him._”

Kon had not been prepared, when he first came to the World of the Living, to do anything more than hide. Since Kisuke gave him sanctuary his life had spun out into a web of possibilities, each as different from the next and extending into the unknown. There was no telling what this person Kisuke was so paranoid about would actually do, nor a guarantee that Kisuke’s hypothesis wasn’t completely bogus.

But, Kon had asked his help, and he had given it. More than given –he had _offered_ to help the Mod Konpaku, and whether it had been selfless or with this intention all along, it didn’t matter. Ōko had made their kind aware of clan politics and the workings of the Seireitei, had programmed them to be able to function as soldiers or servants depending on the need. Kon was well aware of the debt he owed Kisuke, one that even a lifetime of favours could never truly equal; so he did what he had to.

“We’ll have to think about linking up with the others in Karakura who can see spirits, especially when we’re so small in number,” Kon pulled over one of the ever present notepads and pens down the table, and had he been watching he would have caught Kisuke’s eyes widening in surprise. “Running interference for Hollow attacks, maybe even taking care of smaller Hollows and Soul Funerals would be the best use of our skills. Even the SHINs have a limit to their abilities. We’ll have to see about what to tell the Soul Reaper assigned here... anything you want to add?”

“Uh –yes, _yes_, I have some ideas.”

Kon inspected him closely once more. He still didn’t trust this man, and the earlier similarity to Ōko didn’t help –secrets and experiments were good ways to lose track of people’s intentions. But he recalled the hours every day Kisuke spent scribbling away or holed up in the section of the underground that held his lab, and how once he learnt to recognize it, it was clear to see that there was a desperate tilt to the man’s actions. It was like every day that passed could be his last.

“And I want some guarantees.” Kon eventually settled on, which drew a relieved nod from Kisuke.

“Of course, of course –on _paper, _even!”

VVV


End file.
